


With You

by EvilValenStrife



Category: Degrassi, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Don't Ask, I don't know, I don't know why I did this..., M/M, Putting Triles in Skyrim, Why Did I Write This?, i'm a terrible human being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilValenStrife/pseuds/EvilValenStrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Days of Triles: Day 22- In Battle, side-by-side<br/>“Did you really think I’d let you go into this alone?” Miles smiled as Tristan spoke. “We’re a team. If we die, we do it together. Even though, I’d prefer us alive."</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Crap: 30 Days of Triles: In Battle, side-by-side Day 22. I am stupid as hell for this prompt… I need to take several horizontal life pauses for combining Skyrim and Degrassi… Please forgive my fail. I don’t have experience in writing war and/or battle scenes but, I really wanted to write this… This one isn’t as light-hearted as some of my other works but, I think it’s worth the read. If you can’t really deal with violence or war, this isn’t the fic for you.

Miles Hollingsworth III hadn’t intended to get swept up in the politics of the Imperials. He found himself recruited into their ranks when he stopped Solitude with his husband Tristan Milligan. He supposed he should feel some sort of pride in fighting alongside his kinsmen as an Imperial himself. If he had joined up before meeting Tristan, he might have felt a little differently.

Tristan was a Breton mage from High Rock who had just moved to Skyrim after his family was run out after accusations of being Molog Bal worshippers. The young mage was working at the College of Winterhold when he first met Miles. At first, they hated each other so much so that they couldn’t stand to be in vicinity of the other until a dragon threatened the safety of the mostly deserted town. Being saved by a cold icy spear after nearly getting torn apart by a dragon will humble even the most stubborn of men.

Tristan introduced him to another young mage by the name of Maya, who was rather talented at restoration magic. After she healed his wounds, he’d asked her on a date to which she’d accepted. They had dated for a full thirty moons before Maya ended things after reuniting with her former lover Zigmund whom she thought had been lost to battle. Miles was devastated and was making plans to leave the college for good. He wasn’t that great at magic anyway. A surprise came to him when, the strangely blonde haired male followed behind him with his knapsack in hand. Miles just supposed that it was fate that Tristan had decided to travel with him.

Through his traveling with Miles, Tristan found out many interesting facts about his traveling companion. Miles was not only the dovahkiin of legend but, held the title of Guild Master within Riften’s Thieves Guild, the Listener for the Dark Brotherhood, and even held the rank of thane of a great number of cities. He even was champion of many of the Daedric lords, a fact that Tristan snorted at as he’d been kicked out of High Rock for being suspected of worshipping.  He hadn’t realized how important Miles was nor how important he’d become to him.

One night, while Miles had been out fulfilling contracts for the Dark Brotherhood, Tristan was kidnapped by a group of bandits right from Miles’ estate in Markarth. The brunette’s blood boiled as he bade Shadowmere to find the blonde mage. They would pay for taking what was his. Miles’ dragonbone bow was drawn as he single-handedly defeated all of the bandits using the shadows as his cloak. Tristan sat in the bottom of the cove with his hands bound behind his back completely depleted of magicka. Tristan ran into his arms the second he was freed from his confines. Miles knew then and there that Tristan was to be more than just a traveling companion and leaned in to press a kiss to the blonde mage’s chapped lips.

In the months that followed, Tristan and Miles grew closer as their relationship blossomed. It was the sunset of the 4th frostfall that Miles surprised Tristan wearing an amulet of Mara. They went to Riften to have the ceremony and had been together ever since. They officially moved in together in his and Miles’ handcrafted estate near Whiterun. They adopted two children, one boy and one girl. Winston was named after Miles’ best friend that he’d left back in Cyrodil before coming to Skyrim and Tristan named Mila. Both children seemed grateful to have parents and a new home. Winston was an adept mage at such a young age. Tristan and Miles had been thinking of sending him to the College of Winterhold to improve his gift. Mila was a natural talent with alchemy and gardening. They built an alchemy table in the living room so she could practice.

There were peaceful days and calm times and life was good. However, Miles’ destiny as the dovahkiin couldn’t be changed. He had been in Solitude running reconnaissance on the Imperials’ activities with the Thalmor when he’d been confronted by General Tullius for escaping back in Helgen when he was supposed to be executed with the rest of the Stormcloak rebels. After negotiating, General Tullius had convinced him to join the Imperial cause and fight with them against the Stormcloak rebellion.

He returned to his husband with the news and Tristan cried tears of happiness. He’d believed in the message of the Imperials as an outsider himself. Skyrim being just for the Nords and ostracizing anyone who wasn’t a Nord wasn’t something that sat well with him. He found himself joining Miles on some of his missions with the Imperials ecstatic about the chance to fight alongside his beloved. And, baby-sitting the kids all the time had left him a little flabby.

The missions were largely successful and they had recruited a great number of people to their cause. Miles was eventually promoted to Legate and was tasked with talking to Jarl Balgruff about his stance on the war. The Jarl at first argued against the idea of needing Imperial protection until information surfaced about Ulfric sending his troops to march on Whiterun. Fearing for his citizens’ lives, he relented and assured the forces that they would have Whiterun’s full support as long they kept his people safe.

 The battle for Whiterun had officially begun when Jarl Balgruff sent the dovahkiin with his weathered iron battle axe to Windhelm. It was an ancient Nord tradition to give your war axe to your enemy if there was to be a war. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak berated the other Jarl naming him a coward and a traitor to the Nords. There was to be a war over control of Whiterun at sundown on Mondas. Miles was tasked with ensuring that no Stormcloaks breeched the heavy wooden gates of the city.

At night before he left to go to battle, he gathered with Tristan and his children to tell them what exactly was going on. Tristan’s eyes were solemn though he nodded in understanding and murmured a battle cry spell on his husband. Miles took the blonde by his hands and pulled him in for a loving hug letting him know that he’d come back safely. Outside of the estate, Tristan and the children watched as Miles mounted Shadowmere and galloped away to the great city.

Miles looked forward to keep himself from looking back longingly at his family. He was doing this for them. To ensure that their future in Skyrim would be pleasant. He could feel the warmth of Tristan’s magic wash over him endowing him with strength.

He arrived before long at his post where General Tullius and Legate Rikke were awaiting him. Miles dismounted from his horse and walked over to the scaffolding.

“Legate Hollingsworth, come.” The general spoke in a boisterous voice. “Jarl Balgruff will speak.”

He followed his fellow soldiers and watched as the Jarl made his way to the top of one of the towers. His face was hardened and demeanor unflinching.

“My friends, today we fight for the freedom of not only Whiterun but, the entirety of Skyrim! To protect her from these Stormcloak rebels who have forgotten what it truly means to be a child of Skyrim! Let us battle to ensure the future of the Empire and may Soverngarde take us if we fall!”

The resounding cries of agreement and battle resonated throughout the hold and Miles felt his heart clench at the passion of his fellow soldiers. Throughout his journey, he hadn’t expected to be doing anything that he was. He was the Guild Master and the Listener but, he wasn’t actively seeking these titles. They just sort of happened. He had been at a loss of what to do after the dragon attack in Helgen and was grateful that he escaped with his life. He had been in the debt of an Imperial soldier that saved him and even gave him provisions to ensure that he wouldn’t die. Even though, the Empire had sentenced him to death for “being with the Stormcloaks”.

He hadn’t even been associated with them. He was on the run from the city guard after breaking into a home and stealing a lovely pink gemstone he saw. He saw a group of what appeared to be bandits fighting against an even smaller group of blue clad warriors. He figured that he could blend in with the bandits that were fighting and escape his pursuers. The fight hadn’t even lasted a full 10 minutes before Imperial troops swooped in to arrest the warriors. That’s how he found himself at the executioner’s block in Helgen. Maybe it was his fate as the Dragonborn that saved him from the axe that day.

Miles shook his head of his reminiscing and marched with the other troops to his post at the gate. He surveyed the area to see what lie beyond and spotted a swarm of blue heading towards the city.

“They come!” Legate Rikke’s voice cried out. “We make our stand here! On me!”

The soldiers bellowed in response assuming their battle positions. Miles mounted Shadowmere again and readied his pre-poisoned arrows. The first wave of Stormcloaks marched up near the gates and Miles took aim. He had just recently gotten his bow enchanted by Tristan with fire and ice damage. He felt the magic surging through his bow as he let the arrow loose into his target. The arrow lodged into the rebel’s chest and he fell to the ground dead. With a war cry, Miles rode Shadowmere through the arrows firing rapidly at any rebels who dared to attack.

He soon found himself at the bridge now on foot fending off rebels with his daedric sword also enchanted with fire and ice damage. Shadowmere was off to the side fighting some of the rebels by kicking them with her powerful legs. It paid to have an otherworldly horse as your friend. She launched one of the Stormcloak officers into the air with bone-shattering kick and Miles took aim at the falling body shooting him expertly.

Miles hacked and slashed his way to the far left barricade near the main gates. There, he found a barrel of oil and a lantern above. He quickly overturned the barrel emptying its contents onto the dirt below. He ran to hide behind the Whiterun Stables to be able to shoot the lamp when he saw the troops heading toward the barricade. Miles cocked an iron arrow and released it as the rebels charged at it with the intent of breaking it down. Luckily, the wooden barricade hadn’t been saturated with oil and didn’t catch fire. The rebels were too busy trying to put out their burning armor and clothing to notice Miles and another group of soldiers charging at them. He slashed down another officer and ran into the fortress to protect it from the next wave of rebels.

He made his way over to where a commander was engaging a heavily armored rebel and went to assist him. The rebel saw him however and dealt a deadly blow to the commander before rearing up to attack Miles. Miles knew he couldn’t dodge the attack.

“Fus Ro Dah!!!!” Miles’ voice bellowed as the rebel’s body flew several feet backwards into the scaffolding.

Miles took a deep shuddering breath. He was always hesitant to use his dragon shouts as they drained him of energy for a time. He fell to his knees willing his body to hold up and be strong. A small troupe of rebels spotted him on the ground and started in his direction.

“Damn…” Miles swore as he realized he couldn’t escape them in time.

As he was ready to resign himself to his fate, a sudden blast of heat rushed past him incinerating the advancing troupe. Miles looked behind him to see his husband clad in his battle robes wearing a rage-filled look.

“Hey,” Tristan ran over to him and helped him over to the side. “Are you okay? Are you injured anywhere?”

“No…” Miles chuckled tiredly. “Just need to catch my breath. What are you doing here?”

Tristan began to murmur a healing spell and Miles felt some of the exhaustion leaving his body.

“Did you really think I’d let you go into this alone?” Miles smiled as Tristan spoke. “We’re a team. If we die, we do it together. Even though, I’d prefer us alive. Winston would probably raise us from the dead just to yell at us if we did die anyway….”

Miles felt warmth spread through his body.

“Then, we best not die then…” Miles smiled attempting to stand.

Tristan helped him to his feet and the two set off back to gate guarding Whiterun from the rebels. Tristan stuck close to his husband shooting fireballs off into the hordes of Stormcloaks. Miles was fending off a couple of inexperienced rebels with relative ease given his weakened state. It was when Miles saw Irelith, the Jarl’s housecarl being attacked with the Jarl himself that he knew he had to save them. If the Jarl fell, Whiterun would be lost no matter what they did.

Even with his husband calling after him, Miles still ran to assist. He struck a quick blow to one of the attackers but wasn’t quick enough in dodging the blade aimed at his side. Miles cried out in pain before turning his sword on the flanking attacker and stabbing through his gut. Tristan watched in horror as his husband was stabbed before a great anger filled his body. He ran towards the attacker and raised a master level ice storm engulfing all the rebels in the vicinity in it.

“Quickly!” He shouted to Jarl Balgruff. “You have to get out of here before it swallows you too!”

The Jarl nodded and took Irelith by her waist hoisting her over his shoulder as he ran to take cover from the raging storm. Miles was on the ground clutching at his side in pain still in danger of being swept up in the storm. Tristan grabbed his arm and ran with a slowly moving Miles toward the gates of Whiterun. He noted that the other soldiers realized the danger they were in and moved to evacuate the area. The winds and biting frost grew to dangerous levels as Tristan pulled Miles into the stone holding area.

The blonde looked down at his husband who was beginning to pale from his injuries. Tristan began to perform a healing spell until he realized that Miles’ injuries were greater than his healing abilities. He was able to close some of the wound but, not enough to ease his husband’s suffering. He heard pounding against the gates and knew that it was only a matter of time before the rebels that escaped the ice storm broke through.

“I’ll be back for you. I’m not ever going to leave Miles Hollingsworth. Hang on for me until I get back!” Tristan spoke gripping his weak husband’s hand and kissing him soundly on the lips.

Miles gave a weak nod and Tristan took off to go join in the attack. He was met with a lucky sight as Shadowmere galloped her way toward the mage. She brayed worriedly when she saw Miles’ injured state and Tristan patted her muzzle sympathetically. He mounted her and they raced into the heat of the battle in a blaze of fireballs.

Miles lay on a bale of hay, breathing labored. So, this was how he was going to die… He chuckled before wincing in pain from his wound.

“ _It’s not yet your time child…_ ” A raspy yet quiet voice whispered into his ear.

Miles felt a searing hot pain course through his body and cried out in agony. He felt himself slipping into the recesses of his mind as something else took over.

Tristan had fired a rather large fireball into the dwindling number of Stormcloaks decreasing their numbers but, depleting his magicka. He reached over to his side pouch to find a magicka potion only to discover there wasn’t one. He swore taking his daedric dagger from its sheath his side and dismounting the black steed. He would have to rely on his stealth skills as he crept on an officer and sliced his neck. He hadn’t been able to watch his back as closely as he should’ve and felt the sword cut at his arm. He gave a howl of pain and fell to clutch the now bleeding limb. The assailant began to charge at him and Tristan knew that he could quite possibly die here. He was almost sure that he’d be skewered but when no blade came he looked up to find his attacker stopped by a sword sticking out of his chest. He looked down before gasping and falling to the ground as a brunette shook his body from the sword.

“M-Miles?” Tristan was confused, happy, and in awe all at the same time. “How… How are you…”

Miles didn’t answer but continued to fight swiftly slaughtering all the enemies with practiced ease. There was something about his husband that was off. Tristan caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were shrouded over in black. Almost like he was possessed. One by one, the rebels fell until the last officer met his end from one of Miles’ dragonbone arrows.

Tristan looked around him and gasped in disbelief. Miles had done this? He saw the wound. There was no way that Miles should have been up and moving around the way he was. When he locked eyes with his husband, Miles shrouded black eyes began to return to their normal state and he collapsed into the dirt beneath him. Tristan ran to him immediately trying to shake his husband awake with his good arm. His eyes widened when he discovered his beloved had no pulse.

“Miles...” He spoke in disbelief. “Miles, wake up!”

The brunette just lay completely still not breathing. Tristan looked upward to the sky and let out a cry of agony.

* * *

 

When Miles awoke, he was back in his estate. He tried to sit up but grunted in pain once he realized that it was a rather arduous task. He settled for lying back in his bed and tried to recall what happened. He remembered being slashed by that one rebel before he felt like he was on fire and blacked out. He lifted a hand to see that his torso had been carefully bandaged. _Tris must’ve done this…_ He thought fondly. _Wait… Where’s Tris?_ Miles tried to sit up again this time managing it. He had to see him. He had to see his husband.

His daughter Mila took that exact moment to walk in the room and saw her father trying to get out of bed.

“Papa!!! You’re awake?!” She exclaimed before running back through the door. “Father, Papa’s awake!!!!”

Miles heard hurried footsteps rushing down the stairs and into the bedroom. Tristan’s excited face came into view as he held his good hand over his mouth to gasp. He noted that Tristan had a white cloth sling around his neck.

“Miles?” He called almost in fear. “Is it really… you?”

“Hey…” Miles called waving at his husband.

“Don’t you “hey” me! Do you have any idea how scared and worried I was?!” Tristan yelled. “I thought you were dead…”

Tristan’s eyes began to sting and it wasn’t long before he was crying in the doorway. Mila rubbed his back soothingly before going off to find Winston. Tristan walked over to their shared bed to touch Miles. He placed a warm hand on his cheek and stroked it lightly as if he would disappear at any moment.

“Tris…” Miles began upset that he’d made his family worry. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize to me….” Tristan spoke. “Don’t you ever apologize for being alive!”

Tristan’s body shook as he began to sob again and slumped forward onto Miles’ legs. Miles was a loss as to what to do so, he settled for rubbing soothing circles on his husband’s back. He did this for some time until Tristan’s sobbing died down and he could speak.

“Do you remember,” Tristan began. “when you were attacked? I couldn’t heal you completely….”

Miles remembered that part.

“I was so scared that I was going to lose you but, we were being attacked and I had to leave to fight.” Tristan continued with a slight quiver to his voice. “I was attacked and was certain that he was going to finish me off but, then you saved me…”

Miles’ face went blank as he struggled to remember what happened after he’d blacked out.

“I remember barely being able to breathe. I felt myself slipping away but, then, I heard a voice and then a searing hot pain overtook my body and I must’ve blacked out…”

Tristan looked at his husband in confusion.

“Something wasn’t right about you. It was your body, your face but, those eyes were not yours.” Tristan confessed.

“What do you mean?” Miles was equally confused.

“I’m not really sure…” Tristan couldn’t understand his own thoughts.

“He was possessed.” Came a young male voice by the door.

Miles and Tristan both paused to see Winston walking through the door.

“I was what?” Miles questioned.

“Possessed by some sort of spirit…” Winston spoke as a matter of factly.

Tristan shook his head in disbelief.

“No way…” Tristan began. “I didn’t even sense it.”

“You were probably too caught with emotion to notice it at the time. Dad was definitely possessed.” Winston flipped through a book on conjuration spells.

“How are you so sure about this Winston?” Miles asked in just as much denial as his husband.

“I’m a conjuration mage.” Winston stated. “I can pick up on these things. Anyway, I don’t think it was a bad spirit. Dad doesn’t seem to have any violent remnants in his body.”

“But, that doesn’t explain why it happened…” Miles couldn’t help but be slightly irritated.

Winston pawed through his book before shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know why either but, I don’t know if it will come back or not…” Winston said not looking up from the pages.

“You’re telling me that I could be possessed by some ghost again?!” Miles panicked.

“I don’t know. I’m doing all I can to research it.” Winston spoke before heading out of the room. “I’m going to go study it some more.”

Tristan almost called after him but bit his tongue on the decision.

“He’s always so calm… Does anything ever phase him?” Tristan spoke exasperatedly.

“I wouldn’t say that…” Miles spoke. “He was worried too. He doesn’t outwardly show it but, he was scared.”

Tristan hummed in agreement before looking over at his beloved.

“I don’t know what this ghost thing was but, it saved our lives….” Tristan spoke taking one of Miles’ hands in his good one. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Let’s not ever find out…” Miles let a thumb stroke over his husband’s knuckles.

Tristan leaned up to place a gently kiss onto Miles lips smiling when he felt his husband relax into it eagerly. Miles pressed back into the kiss feeling the burn of his injuries but bearing it if it meant never being apart from Tristan again. He didn’t know what saved him during that battle but, it had kept him safe and even saved his husband. He research it but, for now, all that mattered was Tristan’s love and dedication.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Crap: I don't know what I wrote... I don't know why it's so fucking long either. I really hadn't intended on it being this long with no smut. I need life assistance.


End file.
